


Dr. Isobel Evans and the Fountain of Youth

by AndreaLyn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-09-23 09:10:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20337673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: Isobel Evans (alien, archaeologist, professor) never believed that the fabled fountain of youth was a real thing, until Alex Manes showed up and sent her on a wild goose chase after it, all with her ex-girlfriend at her side.





	1. Dr. Isobel Evans & The Fountain of Youth

**Author's Note:**

> Why, yes, it's the Indiana Jones fusion fic that I somehow got conned into writing. Written to make it in time for my entry into the RNM Ladies' Week. 
> 
> Thanks to islndgrl777 for the beta and this is for Insidious Intent, because it would not exist without her pushing!

If you’d asked Dr. Isobel Evans if she would be willing to go on a wild goose chase to find a fabled alien relic, she’d laugh in your face. Well, first she’d insist that it’s not real, then she’d point out that she just had something sniped from under her nose in Arizona, and then she’d laugh, again. In fact, she did laugh. Alex hadn’t exactly been pleased when she’d done it. 

“I’m trying to be nice,” Alex tells her. “You know how hard that can be for me,” is his mocking comment, having dropped by to visit Isobel and to share the news.

Seeing as he dives right back into being _not_ so nice, she doesn’t need the reminder. That hilarious mood fades instantly when she finds out _who_ exactly is after the mythical item. It’s even worse when Isobel hears how they intend to get at it. 

“Last I heard, they were sniffing around your old mentor,” Alex shares. She’s cleaning up after class and Alex ‘dropping by’ means that he wants something. “They’re after the big one.”

“It’s not what they think it is,” Isobel replies flatly. 

The mythical ‘fountain of youth’ had been something that explorers had spoken about for centuries. Nowadays, people still talk about it, but believe it has alien origins. Isobel has written papers on what the artifact might actually be (religious artifact, memento), but she absolutely doesn’t believe that possessing it can give you longer life.

“They have a map and they think it is, but they need the compass.” Alex perches on the edge of the desk, fiddling with his wedding ring as he gives Isobel a thoughtful look. “You know I don’t want to bring Michael into this, but if I tell him, he will go. I thought maybe an actual professor of archaeology with a connection to Mimi might be a better choice.” He raises both brows at once, leaning back on his hands. “Plus,” Alex adds wryly, “the expedition to find it is led by my brother.”

There’s absolutely no love lost there, seeing as when Alex had married Isobel’s brother, he and Michael had made it very clear that they wanted nothing to do with the Manes dynasty and were happy to teach at the college. Normally, Isobel is happy with that as well, but her last expedition had ended with Flint Manes smugly waving the artifact she’d gone for in her face. 

She’d love to be able to get revenge on him, though what Alex is asking is a tall order.

“I’m persona non grata with the DeLuca family,” Isobel reminds him, tidying up her chalkboard. When she’s not in the field, she teaches Archaeology 101 to a group of students who rarely seem interested in the material and seem far more intent on staring at her.

Does she help that by wearing her best jumpsuits and killer boots? Maybe. Everyone needs a pick-me-up now and again.

Alex leans forward, a look of disbelief on his face. “What happened between you is old news, plus I’m pretty sure Mimi would be happier to see you than Flint on her doorstep.”

He’s not wrong about that. It might only be by a sliver, but he’s not wrong.

“Think about it, Iz,” Alex pleads. “I really don’t want to get dragged around the desert on this one to look for some old teapot that people think can give them longer life. The last time Michael dragged me off to find something, the thing was alien Viagra,” he reminds her with a pointed raise of his brow. “The first hour was fun. The nine after it? _Painful_.”

He raps his knuckles on the desk and gives her a kiss on the cheek on his way out.

“Think about it,” Alex insists, and heads out.

Isobel wishes that she weren’t so predictable. The moment she’d found out that Flint’s after Mimi, she’d made up her mind. 

It looks like she’s going to be paying a visit to her old stomping grounds.

She gives herself a day to prepare. She reads all the old texts she can find, finds the maps she’s put together, and even digs out her journal from when she’d been young, vain, and stubborn enough to believe that she could be the one to find the fabled fountain of youth before she’d learned more and decided the whole thing was probably a hoax.

Now, better prepared, here she is at the Wild Pony, Mimi’s last known whereabouts. She has a feeling she knows what Flint is after, seeing as the DeLuca family was well-versed in several objects, but their truest specialty happened to be in alien artifacts – a topic that Isobel found herself always interested in, given her own status as an alien refugee on Earth. 

If they need a compass, there’s one specific object of Mimi’s that Isobel suspects will do the job. If she means to beat Flint to the prize, then she needs the pendant on the end of a necklace she hasn’t seen in years, one that she knows belongs to Mimi DeLuca. 

“It’s just a bar,” Isobel tells herself as she stands outside of it, trying to give herself the pep talk she needs. “It’s fine. She probably won’t even be here. You can do this.” 

Her internal Alex Manes voice tells her that it’s not an option of _can_ and that she _has_ to do this, and she hates that his stupid voice is right. 

Isobel adjusts her jacket (one of her nicest ones, that she’d put on just in case there’s a reason she needs to look her best) and steps inside the Wild Pony to see that the décor hasn’t really changed in the years since she’d begun to avoid the bar. 

Inside, the crowd is roaring and clearly distracted, which is how Isobel makes her entrance and tucks herself away in the corner. There’s a table set up in the middle of the Pony, but it’s not Mimi DeLuca there, but her daughter. Isobel stares for a very long time, unable to help the swooping feeling in her stomach. 

Three years ago, she and Maria had gone their separate ways.

To this day, it’s a heartbreak that Isobel hasn’t known how to heal.

Still, Maria is as beautiful as ever, especially when she’s seated opposite of Wyatt Long, in the middle of what looks to be a contest to see who can drink the most vodka. She’s confident in every one of her movements and she’s every bit as vibrant and _magnetic_ as ever. Isobel feels a twinge of guilt, recalling their breakup (because Maria wanted a home and Isobel wanted an adventure), but it’s good to see her.

Maybe she shouldn’t have stayed away for so long.

“Oh, come on, Wyatt,” Maria teases. “You’re telling me that you can’t keep up with a girl?” She knocks her shot back and flips it upside down. They’re six deep apiece, but Wyatt’s the one wobbling and Isobel suspects it’s only his misogynistic, racist stubbornness that’s kept him vertical for this long.

Isobel shouldn’t, but once the impulse hits her, it’s impossible to ignore.

Reaching out, she snakes her way into Wyatt’s mind, and she finds that little impulse to _give up_. Once she does, Isobel stokes it and whispers it into reality, slipping out in time to see Wyatt lift up the seventh shot of vodka, lift it to his lips, and then promptly pass out, his forehead slamming onto the table as the groans go off around them.

From Maria’s giddy laugh and the way she claps her hands together, she’s clearly won a lot of money. Isobel knows she’s smiling like an idiot, proud of her, even though she knows that Isobel’s little mind-nudge hadn’t been the only advantage helping out.

She waits for everyone else to leave, sticking her ground, and when the door closes behind the last local, Isobel gets out of the booth, approaching Maria from behind, watching her count her winnings. She even makes sure that her boots hit all the creaks in the floorboards (knowing exactly where they are, because she’s spent longer in this bar than anywhere else). 

“We’re closed,” Maria says, sounding far too sober considering she just won a drinking competition against Wyatt Long. 

Isobel gives her a fond smile as she settles her jacket on the bar, climbing onto a stool beside Maria. “Do you think he’s ever going to figure out that you water down your vodka when he challenges you? Or is he just going to keep losing his money to you?” 

Maria’s posture goes rigid, though she doesn’t immediately look at Isobel. That momentary blip is quickly gone, as she goes back to counting money. “We’re closed,” she repeats again. “Especially to my ex-girlfriend.”

“I’m here to see your mother,” Isobel says, holding up her hands like she wants Maria to know that she comes in peace. “Is she around?”

Maria turns to give Isobel a confused look. “Didn’t Alex tell you?”

Oh, she has a bad feeling about this. “What was Alex supposed to tell me?” Isobel asks coolly, seeing as she has the feeling that Alex definitely knew whatever it is that Maria wants her to know, but deliberately didn’t tell Isobel.

“Mom’s not well,” Maria says quietly. “Jesse Manes paid her a visit,” she continues and with every additional word, her tone gets icier.

Now Isobel understands why Alex had set her up for this, why he hadn’t given her the whole background, and even why he’d led her right here. He’s trying to kill two birds with one stone – banking on Isobel’s righteous fury to get her into the hunt, but also to potentially get her with Maria again.

He's an asshole for it.

The trouble is, it’s also working.

“I need her necklace,” Isobel admits with a sigh. “The pendant is something that she always said would lead you to something great and powerful.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, hating the feeling of a dead end. “Jesse probably already has it, Flint’s probably already on his way…”

She trails off when she feels Maria’s hand sliding over hers, squeezing lightly. Isobel’s heart starts pounding harder as she drops her hand away from her face to gape at Maria, watching her hand slide past the neck of her lacy shirt to pull out a pendant on a chain.

It's not just any pendant. It’s _Mimi’s_.

“Mom had a bad feeling that day, she gave it to me. Jesse has something,” Maria warns. “He found something in her journals, ripped it out, but he doesn’t have this.” 

Isobel reaches out for it, but before she can get her hands on it, Maria’s fingers close around it and she yanks it out of Isobel’s reach. 

“Nope,” Maria says, setting down the money so she can turn to face Isobel. “I know what this leads you to. You and Mom both insisted that it never did anything, but I didn’t buy that. Now Jesse pays Mom a visit and roughs her up, then you come the very next day?” Maria shakes her head. “That fountain of youth is dangerous and if you’re going after it, so am I.”

“The field is no place for a bartender, Maria,” Isobel snaps, wishing that she’d taken maybe a _second_ to think about her words and how much they might hurt.

Unfortunately, she didn’t, and she deserves the pained look on Maria’s face. “Well, this bartender has the compass you need, so if you want to catch up with Jesse and his flock, then you’re going to need me. You want the pendant, you get me with it.”

It's dangerous and the last thing that Isobel wants is for Maria to get hurt.

Of course, there are worse people to have at her side. Maria’s smart and capable and she’s got a solid right hook. She knows that Mimi would have her head if she knew Isobel was taking Maria into the field, but Jesse and Flint have a head start on them and if they don’t get moving, they won’t recover any ground.

“One condition,” Isobel insists sharply, yanking her jacket off the bar. 

“You can try,” Maria says and she sounds amused at the idea that Isobel thinks she can lay down ground rules.

Scowling, Isobel reaches out for Maria’s wrist as she pockets the money away, because this isn’t a joke. “One condition,” she reiterates. “If things look like they’re getting dangerous or tough, then I need you to trust me and listen to me,” she pleads. She knows it’s pointless to tell Maria that she’ll need to leave or that she needs to stay back completely, so she’s working with the one option she thinks will work. 

“Fine,” Maria agrees. “I’ll listen to you, _if_ things look bad.” She checks her watch, leans over the bar to grab a bottle of tequila, handing it to Isobel. “We’ll need this. Give me five minutes to pack a bag, then we can start in on Jesse’s trail, see where he and his lackey boys have managed to get to.”

Once she heads to the back, Isobel unscrews the bottle of tequila to take a shot. 

An adventure with her ex-girlfriend, the woman that Isobel is still in love with? 

Sure, she can’t imagine this going poorly at all.

* * *

It turns out that Isobel’s instincts had been _absolutely_ right about this whole thing becoming a disaster very quickly, and her body is paying for going into the situation eyes-open anyway. 

Everything in her body feels like it’s on _fire_ and that’s after one day of chasing down the Manes assholes. Maria tries to get at her again with the cloth, but Isobel flinches away violently. 

“I need Max,” Isobel protests, hissing and moving her cut-up arm away from where Maria is trying to press antiseptic to the wounds on her arms. She’s bruised and battered and bloody, all because Flint decided to sic one of his men on her. She’d been trying to get across the hangar bay to get to Maria before those assholes could take her with them, and Flint had equipped them with their yellow powder so she couldn’t get inside their heads to fend them off. 

Unluckily for them, Alex had taken a good deal of time to teach Isobel how to defend herself using her fists and feet, and she’d gone to town on them. Unfortunately, she hadn’t escaped unscathed.

“Maria!” she snaps when the woman ignores her and keeps dabbing the cloth on her cuts.

“You’re not getting Max because he’s hours away,” Maria shouts back at her. “Don’t be such a baby, Evans,” she warns, and dips the rag in a bowl of warm water. “If I don’t get these treated, that pretty face of yours isn’t going to look so nice tomorrow.”

“You could be nicer about it,” Isobel says petulantly. 

“What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” Maria teases.

Isobel’s nostrils flare in a way she suspects might be deemed ‘adorable’, but then she sniffs, pouts and says, “I don’t know. Maybe?” Anything would be better than the torture that’s happening to her right now.

“Then tell me where it doesn’t hurt.”

Isobel flushes when Maria makes her offer, but the stinging rag gets put down, so Isobel thinks that she’d better take advantage of this. If she protests or turns Maria down, she suspects that it’ll be stinging torture from here on out, and that’s no good for anyone. “Here,” she finally says, tapping the back of her palm.

Maria lifts that palm with both of her hands to press a slow kiss to the skin, her eyes wide open as she does. Isobel feels the shiver down her spine as Maria’s lips brush the area and she presses a kiss two inches to the right of it a few seconds later. 

Gulping, Isobel pushes her hair aside and taps on her neck where she stretches. “Here,” she adds, meeting Maria’s eye and feeling _hopeful_ in a way that she hasn’t in years. 

She waits for Maria’s protest or an argument that she’s not going to do it, but then Maria slides into Isobel’s space, the scent of her perfume and her shampoo drifting close and filling Isobel’s head with memories and fantasies. Maria slides her fingers through Isobel’s hair, and one of her rings catches on a few strands, but Maria’s murmured apology and her lips sliding over Isobel’s neck quickly makes her forget the light sting.

Isobel’s breathing stutters and when Maria eases back, she doesn’t go far.

It’s why Isobel thinks that she can risk everything. “Here,” she says, voice low, and taps her lower lip twice with two fingers, eyes half-lidded as she stares at Maria’s mouth across the short distance between them.

She waits for the shouting. She waits for the denial. She _waits_.

Then Maria drifts forward and closes the space between them. Isobel slides her fingers over Maria’s back, into the softness of her curls, and cups her cheek when Maria drifts in to kiss her, as if she can kiss it all better – the years apart, all their fights, the fact that back then Isobel hadn’t realized how important a home could be.

When Maria drifts back, Isobel’s not sure if it hurts less or if it’s gone and opened old wounds. 

“Do you feel any better?” Maria asks, picking up the rag again when Isobel doesn’t instantly chase after the kiss for another, too stunned by how much kisses from Maria can make her feel. She knows that while they had broken up, there hasn’t been anyone else for her. 

If Alex is to be believed, there hasn’t been anyone else for Maria either.

“A little,” Isobel grudgingly admits, because with every piece of gauze Maria applies to her wounds, they sting a little less. The kisses have opened up a new road that Isobel thought she’d been banned from, but if she turns down it, what does it mean for them?

She follows Maria’s every movement as she moves around the room of the small hotel they’re camped out in, waiting to make their next move. Once Isobel tugs her shirt on over her tank top again (hissing as she does), she makes some room on the bed beside her. 

“Come here?”

Maria looks at her warily, then to the chair where Isobel suspects she’d been planning to stay for the night. 

“Maria,” Isobel protests. “Please.”

Maria slides into bed with Isobel after a long moment of thought. While it’s not like anything can happen with Isobel feeling like a human pincushion, she still wants to get Maria as close as possible. Isobel shimmies and moves in behind her, lips pressed to Maria’s neck as she brushes her hand over Maria’s hands, a steady little motion that Maria had always liked when they were together. When she falls asleep, her mind drifts towards Maria’s and they tangle together, Isobel’s powers mingling with whatever baseline psychic nature Maria has, and twined together, Isobel feels like she’s back in her safe space again.

Tomorrow, they’ll take a shot at getting to the fountain before Jesse can. Tomorrow, there will be more important things to worry about than kisses from Maria, but Isobel’s hard-pressed to prioritize anything as more important in this exact moment.

* * *

As long as she’s been in her field, Isobel has always said that the fountain of youth wouldn’t give a person more years of their life. It simply couldn’t happen, because that’s not how energy works, that’s not how alien artifacts work, and it’s too good of a story to happen as easily as drinking the water from a fountain.

Isobel hates being right.

She hates it. She hates it most of all because right now, she and Maria are tied up together thanks to Jesse and Flint beating them to the fountain of youth, then going through the motions to activate it. Jesse had sent Flint away, keeping his group of guards and lower officers around to see the machine in action.

“Maria,” Isobel shouts, when she can’t influence anyone to release them, not with the panic around them. “Remember how I said you had to trust me?”

“Yes, what do you…”

“Close your eyes!”

The hum of the machine is impossible to miss, but what hits Isobel like a tidal wave is a familiar force that feels like when she gets into people’s heads. It slams into her, trying to will her to open her eyes, but she refuses. She keeps them closed, because she knows that it needs a way in. It needs to be seen, be acknowledged, and then it will leech everything out of you. 

She’s not sure how she never figured that out before, but she knows it now. It’s as if the energy pulsing over her connects in her mind and whispers how it works to Isobel, as if it wants her to be the one to claim it. It’s a siren’s song that she’s ignoring, reaching back to hold tight to Maria’s hand.

“Don’t open your eyes, don’t,” she whispers.

With every passing moment of the machine working, she knows more about it. It’s like another alien is there with them and maybe it is, somehow. Maybe this used to be someone’s power before it had been put in a box and weaponized. The fountain of youth is a real artifact, but it’s not a memento and it’s not a ritualistic item. It really does give someone youth. The trouble is, to do that, it burrows into your eyes and steals every last shred of your life to do it – the eyes are the windows to the soul, indeed. She’d never believed that weird line in her notes, but now it’s coming in handy. 

Isobel’s unnerved by this odd connection she feels, but soon the humming and the thrum of power fades. She tries to get into the minds of the men around her, but when she reaches out, the lashes of pain and confusion warn her away from even entering their minds. Isobel knows that means none of them are in good shape.

Jesse, unfortunately, is. She’d felt him go, his twisted and perverted mindscape vanishing slowly as he left.

“Isobel,” Maria’s speaking, her tone soft and worried. “Isobel, is it over?”

She thinks it is, but she’s so worried it’s not. 

Reaching out with her powers one last time, she casts for both Jesse and the machine – which she can’t believe she’s thinking of as a sentient being, but there’s no other way to explain how it had _spoken_ to her the way it had. Before Isobel gives her answer, she sends out a mental call for Michael, not the first one of the day, but one that tells him to get here _fast_.

“You can open your eyes.” 

As she does, she can feel Maria’s fingers twining with hers. They’re safe and they’re together, and the relief of it sends Isobel into a peal of disbelieving laughter. 

“The next time one of your alien artifacts could _almost kill_ us, maybe tell me about it before you drag me off on an adventure,” Maria grumbles, trying to work the knots out. Isobel isn’t bothering to do any of the work, knowing that Michael and Alex will be there to help them eventually. 

“It worked, didn’t it? I kept you safe. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re the one who dragged yourself along.”

True, it’s not like they’re escaping unscathed (Isobel certainly isn’t), but at least they’re not gibbering messes on the floor like the soldiers around them, sapped of their lives. From the looks of them, they’ve lost at least fifty years of their lives, the lot of them.

Maria’s face is contorted with sympathy as she stares at them. “This is all because of Jesse?”

“Jesse and whatever alien power is in that box,” Isobel says. “I think it might be someone’s conscious mind. I don’t think that it helps only the host, I think it’s also serving itself, keeping itself alive…”

It’s all hypothesis right now, and it all doesn’t matter. 

“Maria, I’m so sorry. I know you didn’t want to be out on these adventures. I know you wanted a life at home and I did too,” Isobel blurts out, “but I got scared thinking that I’d be the boring housewife who plans parties when she’s not working and I ran away from you. I did it because I was scared of becoming someone I’m not, that I never stopped to think of the person I was with you around.”

She inhales deeply and keeps going. 

“I’m a better person with you, and I forget that it didn’t mean we’d stop going on adventures, it just meant they’d be different.”

“Isobel Evans,” Maria’s voice sounds rough with amusement, even if she still sounds stressed. Isobel desperately wishes they weren’t tied up back-to-back so that she could see her face. “What are you saying?”

“That I love you,” Isobel admits, holding onto Maria’s hand. “I never stopped loving you, but I let my fear get the better of me. I should have fought it harder, but I threw myself into my work to stop thinking about you. These last few days…”

“They’ve been so good,” Maria cuts her off. “I know. I know, because I’ve had the same thoughts. Mom’s pretty relentless when it comes to her trying to push me back at you, and I think maybe I finally let my heel give.”

There’s a long moment of silence, but Isobel feels confident as she broaches it. 

“So, do you think that maybe we could…”

The sound of a car approaching shocks Isobel out of the moment, and her gaze lands sharply on their rescuers in their approach. On the one hand, it took them long enough, but on the other, she’s pissed at them for their awful timing. 

“I feel like we’re interrupting something,” comes Michael’s voice as he parks the Jeep and hops out, squinting as he uses his powers to loosen the bonds tying them up. He glances back to Alex with a smirk. “I might owe you twenty bucks.” 

“I didn’t take the bet,” Alex sighs, like the long-suffering husband that he is. “Are you two okay?”

Maria nods, rubbing her wrists. “Check on the others?” she says, and Alex immediately heads over for that. Isobel gets it, because Maria’s fine-tuned sensitivities to the pain of others means that whatever the men around them are feeling, she must be getting some of it too. As soon as Isobel is free, she pulls Maria up to her feet, pulling her into her arms to embrace her as tightly as she can.

Kissing the top of her head, she holds her and refuses to let her go. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she finally says, glad that Michael has moved away from them to check on Alex and the situation. “I meant it, what I said, I really did,” she insists, cupping Maria’s cheeks as she leans in to press a kiss to her forehead, drifting back. “Do you think we could try this again? Somehow?”

“Try leaving and not taking me with you,” Maria dares. 

“Is that Maria DeLuca for ‘yes’?” Isobel can’t help but tease.

Instead of answering, Maria leans up on her toes and kisses her to shut her up. She used to do that all the time, insisting that it’s the only way to get Isobel Evans to listen to something other than her own voice. It’s funny how much she’s missed it, and she has to command her knees not to buckle as she tangles her fingers into Maria’s hair, kissing her until she feels something being pelted at her, and even though it’s a small stone, she glowers at Michael.

“I didn’t have a bucket of cold water,” he says, from where he’s bent over the raised area that Jesse had been working on.

“As if you’re any better,” Isobel hisses, but slides a few inches from Maria, reluctantly. 

“We’ll make time later,” Maria promises, squeezing Isobel’s hand before she glances over to where Alex is still working. “What are we going to do about Jesse?” Maria asks. 

“We can’t let him get away with this,” Isobel insists, glancing to where Michael is investigating the burn patterns around where the machine had been, checking the pulse of the old men on the ground, most of whom are confused and frightened. “We need to get these men some help, then find Jesse, and maybe we can reverse this before he does more damage.”

“I’m in,” Alex calls, from where he’s helping one of the soldiers to his feet.

“I thought you didn’t want to be dragged around the desert?” Isobel mimics his voice. 

From the dark look on Alex’s face, this is clearly not a joking matter anymore. “That was before I found out what that thing could do to people. The longer it stays in my father’s hands, the more dangerous it remains. Besides,” he says, glancing to Michael. “You and Flint might have your old rivalry, but ours is with my Dad.”

Maria raises her brow and gives Isobel an encouraging look. “How about we take one last adventure out in the field before you and I see what trouble we can get into together when we settle.” She holds her fingers a small distance apart. “Only a little. You really think a woman who runs a bar called the Wild Pony would ever get boring?”

Isobel can’t help her disbelieving laugh as Maria walks away from her with the confidence that she’s always possessed. 

“So,” Michael says, at her side while Maria and Alex help collect up the aged soldiers. “You and DeLuca, huh?” he keeps going with a smirk. “Alex is gonna be so smug for a month, I hope you’re happy.”

Isobel knows that she should be more worried about the impending threat of Jesse with alien technology in his hands. Unfortunately, she’s smiling like a woman in love for the first time in years and she is happy. She’s so happy, because she’s getting a chance to undo one of her biggest mistakes.

She rolls her eyes at Michael, refusing to let him be in the right. “Oh, I’m sorry. Your husband is going to be smug and hot and happy for a month,” she retorts. “How are you going to live with that, Michael?”

Unfortunately, Michael knows her brand. It means that he knows how to give as good as he gets.

“If we’re both lucky, on my back and with a very talented set of lips on me. Same as you,” he quips and heads off before Isobel can get another word in edgewise.

He’s an asshole.

Isobel’s also hoping that he’s _right_.


	2. Dr. Isobel Evans & The Mysterious Medusa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every year, Maria gets to choose what adventure they pursue on her birthday. This year, she's chosen Medusa.

Every year on Maria’s birthday, Isobel gives her two presents.  
  
Isobel’s finishing up the first present (with her tongue working very hard to make sure it’s the best birthday present ever) when Maria tugs on her hair and brings Isobel up towards her lips for a messy kiss. “I know what I want this year,” Maria says, a sparkle in her eyes, “for my special birthday present.”  
  
Every year after Isobel devotes hours to worshiping her girlfriend’s body, she offers one adventure into an old myth or artifact – Maria’s choice – which they go chasing down after. Isobel’s had to put some restrictions on it because she needs to be able to actually find it, which is why she’s taken to giving Maria her book of half-finished cases for Maria to slide through and pick.  
  
“Oh?” Isobel murmurs against the kiss, straddling her girlfriend so she can teasingly slide her fingers over her abdomen, toying and gently advancing towards her breasts. “And what adventure are you dragging me on this year?”  
  
“Medusa,” Maria says, tugging Isobel down for another kiss.

Isobel drags herself away from the kiss reluctantly, but she needs to make sure Maria’s _serious_ about this one. “You’re sure?”  
  
It’s not that she can’t deliver (she actually thinks she’s very close on this one, to the point that she knows the exact location of where they need to go, even though when they get there is where the adventure truly starts). It’s the part where it’s a dangerous case if the legends are to be believed. If Maria and Isobel have learned anything over the years, it’s that most of the legends that they hear about are simply real things that got twisted into myths.  
  
Isobel has to wonder if there aren’t a few tall tales about her out there.  
  
(Privately, she _hopes_ there are)  
  
“I’m so sure,” Maria promises, her breath hitching as Isobel’s long hands splay over her rib cage and those deep breaths send Isobel’s palms rising and falling. “Scorned woman who gets revenge on men?” She gives Isobel a confident little grin. “Sounds right up our alley.”  
  
She’s right about that.  
  
“Then we’re on the case,” Isobel makes her promise. “I’ll call in and give the school my notice, book the tickets tonight. Hand me my phone?”  
  
“Really? You want your phone right now?” Maria tips her head to the side and flips them so that Isobel’s the one on her back. Maria begins to slowly inch her way gracefully lower, pressing slow kisses over Isobel’s skin as she goes. “There’s nothing I can do to convince you to hold that thought for tomorrow morning?”  
  
Isobel’s back arches as Maria pushes her thighs apart and her curls tickle the sensitive skin there as she begins to be _very_ distracting. Letting out a yelp and a pleading cry, Isobel tangles her hands in Maria’s hair, breathing raggedly as she decides that sure, tomorrow sounds like the perfect time to do the work.  
  
“Fuck, Maria,” she gets out, her voice low and thick with need.  
  
“That’s next,” is Maria’s guarantee, but Isobel wants less talking and more attention paid to her, so she uses her fingers to dig into Maria’s hair and guide her back to what she wants.  
  
It might be Maria’s birthday, but that’s no excuse for Isobel to go completely without pleasure tonight.  
  
And tomorrow, she’ll start planning a trip to go and search for the mythical Medusa.  
  
*  
  
A week later, Isobel’s got their bags packed and is in her summer best – a linen white pantsuit and a large-brimmed hat. She hands Maria the plane tickets, taking smug delight in seeing Maria’s face light up. “Greece?”  
  
“Sometimes, the myth’s not _completely_ wrong,” Isobel says, wrapping her arm around Maria’s waist to guide her to the hired car that’s waiting. “I have her tracked down to a small village in Greece. There are stories right up until a few months ago about lifelike statues of certain objects, including men,” she says. “Whatever Medusa might have been once upon a time is still happening now. From my research, I think they’re aliens who pass their powers down to the next generation,” Isobel shares as she helps Maria into the car.  
  
“So she’s real? Medusa is real?” Maria asks dubiously.  
  
“You’re the one who picked this case!”  
  
“I thought maybe it would be some kind of artifact that might touch you to stone. Maybe, I don’t know, a vase or a hairbrush.” Maria’s eyes are growing wider and Isobel recognizes that look. They’re not leaving Greece until they find this woman, so Isobel has to hope this isn’t a dead end. “It’s a woman, a poor woman.” Her gaze grows steely and she turns on her seat to look at Isobel. “We’re going to rescue her.”  
  
“Yes, we are,” Isobel guarantees.  
  
The rewarding kiss that Isobel gets for her staunch determination is a nice incentive, even though it’s one she wouldn’t have needed. Maria has a habit of picking the most amazing cases for them to look into, and now that they’ve developed a routine, Isobel feels safe bringing Maria into the field with her.  
  
It’s an easy trip to Greece, seeing as Isobel’s booked them in first class the whole way there, which means that when they arrive, she’s feeling refreshed and ready to go.  
  
She settles her satchel over her shoulder, sable fedora on her head, and links arms with Maria as she brings them to the small coastal town where the trail had gone cold. It’s a beautiful seaside town with mountains nearby, a place that Isobel thinks could have been a romantic getaway even without the adventuring side-trip aspect.  
  
Isobel will focus on the beautiful sights around them later.  
  
Right now, she’s ready to go, eager, and they have a trail to pick up. “What do you say we go talk to some locals?” Isobel suggests, once they’ve unpacked in their hotel penthouse suite (because Isobel only travels in style and she loves splurging on Maria).  
  
“I was thinking ouzo at the bar,” Maria agrees, with a flirty little smile Isobel’s way. She adjusts her wide-brimmed sun hat, leading the way in a short little sundress that’s definitely going to get Isobel plenty thirsty soon.  
  
They’ve got work to do before they get to their celebrations.  
  
“Sounds like a plan.”  
  
It’s a plan that gets them exactly where they need to be, as it turns out. Because the moment they enter the tavern, Isobel hears _it_.  
  
It’s a mournful wailing that can’t be ignored, something that only other aliens would be able to do. Isobel feels completely vindicated and despite the headache she’s going to have, she’s smiling smugly.  
  
“What?” Maria asks, knowing her girlfriend well.  
  
“I hear her,” Isobel says, doubling back on the tavern to search for where that cry is coming from. When she turns towards the mountains, it seems to amplify. “There,” she says, and tugs on Maria’s hand to get them moving that way.  
  
The ouzo is going to have to wait.  
  
Isobel follows the distressed psychic call in her mind, knowing with immense clarity that Medusa isn’t just a real woman, but she’s an alien. She tugs on Maria’s hand to bring her along, towards the cavernous mountain complex. As they move, it begins to get louder, more like a _scream_ than a piercing alarm, and she stops near a large mansion that sits on the mountainside.  
  
“Iz,” Maria murmurs, when Isobel stops in her tracks. “What is it? Is it here?”  
  
Isobel tries to sort through the screaming in her head, because it’s not coming from the house. She looks to the side, where there’s a grotto-like entrance nearby in the garden. Wordlessly, she begins to pull Maria with her, knowing that the hairs on the back of her neck are standing on end and she should be cautious, but she knows that this is the right way to go.  
  
Whatever is waiting for them is inside that cave structure.  
  
“Isobel,” Maria hisses, more worried now.  
  
“No, it’s okay,” Isobel promises, because the screaming is gone. She’s closed her eyes to send out a peaceful signal, that they’re here to rescue the woman, that they’re friends, and it’s going to be okay. “I promise, it’s okay,” she guarantees, and advances towards the cave.  
  
It’s a deep structure, with limestone and labyrinthine twists and turns, but a gentle slope downwards. Isobel creeps further into the cave, passing a man frozen in time in stone form. She can hear breathing a little further and when she glances up, she sees a beautiful woman behind bars. There are no snakes in her hair, but it’s clearly matted. Not for one moment does Isobel fear averting her gaze.  
  
Whatever happened to this man had been done purposefully, and Isobel trusts the same won’t happen to them.  
  
“Oh, thank the heavens,” the woman sobs. “It’s been four days since I got so angry and turned him to stone and the last of my food ran out this morning. I thought I was doomed, I thought I was done for.”  
  
That psychic resonance from earlier makes sense now. It had been a last-ditch attempt – a desperate wail to try and get another alien’s attention. Cautiously, she steps aside to gesture for Maria to come into the cave, still wary, but trusting that they’re not going to be turned to stone.  
  
“I’m Isobel Evans and this is my girlfriend, Maria. We’re not here to hurt you,” she says bluntly, wanting to make sure they’re all on the same page when it comes to that.  
  
“I’m Marianna Méduse,” she introduces herself, but her smile turns wry and brittle. “I think you already know what it is my family can do.”  
  
“How long have you been here?” Maria asks, her brow furrowed and her tone dripping with sympathy. Isobel almost tells her to roll it back, because pity isn’t something that a prisoner is probably after.  
  
Marianna doesn’t seem to mind, but she likely has other things that she’s worried about.  
  
“Only a few weeks,” she says, exhaling with dismay. “I’m normally so good at keeping my powers contained. When I get so angry that they activate, it’s only animals that I turned or inanimate objects. Then, a month ago in the local bar, some man grabbed by arm too tightly. I turned on him and it was instantaneous, like I didn’t even think about it. They locked me up here in this torture cave after.”  
  
“Men,” Isobel says derisively, with all the proper hatred in her voice. She focuses on the lock, using powers that Michael’s been teaching her to unlock it, watching the door swing open. “The good news is that we’re here to rescue you,” she says brightly. “And you can do whatever you want.”  
  
“You’re like me? An alien?” Marianna says, staring at Isobel.  
  
“I heard you,” Isobel says, which should give her the answer she’s looking for. “I’m like you, and if you want to come with us, we’d like to take you away from here, give you some security.” Isobel can only imagine that the town is no longer a home for her. She can only imagine the spectacle of what must have happened in the bar and the witch hunt that had followed to get Marianna locked up like this.  
  
She lets her gaze slide between the two of them, clearly still nervous about them, and unsteady about whatever decision she’s about to make.  
  
“Isobel means what she says,” Maria adds, stepping forward to hold out both hands to her. It’s an invitation and an opening, showing that they’re allowing themselves to be vulnerable to her. “We’ll take care of you, we promise. There are others like you back where we live. People like you, and you can be yourself.”  
  
Marianna glances to Isobel, like she’s waiting for her advice.  
  
“It’s your choice,” she says. “But I think Maria’s right. There’s a whole other world waiting for you and I’d like to show you that you can be an alien in this world and not be afraid.”  
  
Marianna steps forward, takes Maria’s hands, and sags forward with a relieved sob.  
  
Well, at least bringing a woman back home with them is going to be much easier to clear through customs than a cursed vase or statue. The logistics of what they’re going to do once she gets there is a little trickier, but Isobel doesn’t care at the moment. They’ve rescued an imprisoned woman and are giving an alien a new chance at life.  
  
She’ll call that a successful mission any day.  
  
*  
  
“I still can’t believe you did that,” Michael mutters as he drinks his second of the night, care of Mimi’s soft spot for him. Maria would never give him two in a row so quickly (or for free), but Mimi’s been out of the hospital for a few days now and every time Michael smiles sweetly at her and reminds her that Alex married him, she melts and pours him a new one.  
  
One day, that’s going to stop working.  
  
And one day, Isobel will stop being jealous that she doesn’t get the same even though she’s dating Mimi’s daughter (though maybe if she got off her ass and proposed, she’d get all the free drinks she wants).  
  
Isobel pries her gaze away from the booth at the back of the bar, even if it’s nearly impossible to take her eyes off Maria when she’s wearing that gorgeous blue dress. “What?”  
  
Michael rolls his eyes. “Earth to Isobel,” he quips, snapping his fingers in front of her face. He gestures heatedly to the booth. “That!”  
  
Isobel looks back to try and understand why Michael’s so annoyed. Maria and Alex have got Marianna there with them, getting her acclimatized to life back in society. They’re starting with Roswell instead of a bigger city because they want to make sure that she’s comfortable before she goes back out into the world fully.  
  
Kyle’s also there, because Maria and Isobel had conspired to introduce Marianna to a few decent men.  
  
Oh.  
  
Well, that explains Michael’s annoyance. “He’s not the same asshole he used to be, you know. Maria and I thought it’d be nice if Marianna met a decent guy.” Michael opens his mouth and Isobel rolls her eyes. “Alex is married and doesn’t count,” she cuts him off, already knowing exactly what he was going to say.  
  
“I still think there are better men out there,” Michael grumbles, picking up the beers so they can head back to that table.  
  
“You married the one you think is best,” Isobel counters. “Of course you do.”  
  
“Speaking of marriage…”  
  
Isobel’s on her feet, because she doesn’t need this grief from Michael, either. “Maria!” she says brightly, walking fast enough to get in front of Michael so he can’t push a topic that she’s _planning_ (she just needs more time). “How’s everything over here?” she asks, settling back into Maria’s arms.  
  
“Marianna and Kyle were just talking about how they both want to go on a road trip and how she’s always wanted to see California.” Isobel recognizes that smug note in Maria’s voice. She loves the thrill of the hunt, but she also enjoys meddling in the love lives of their friends (which is partially why she and Michael get along, because neither of them can stop pestering the other about their relationships). “I was giving them some tips.”  
  
Michael puts the beer in front of Alex before he slides in beside him.  
  
“And if he turns out to snore in his sleep,” he jokes, “then none of us would mind a stone Valenti.”  
  
“It would immortalize his abs,” Alex says absently, sipping at his beer. “Give us a chance to touch them more.”  
  
Kyle flushes furiously red, Michael lets out a jealous cry, and Isobel can’t help laughing until she cries, loving how badly that’s backfired on him. She can tell Marianna is still slightly out of her depth here, but Maria’s better than all of them, because she’s the one who leans over and murmurs, “Take the road trip,” in an encouraging tone, “and definitely get to see the abs.”  
  
“They’re an attraction of their own,” Isobel agrees, getting comfortable at Maria’s side as all hell breaks loose.  
  
She doesn’t care in the slightest. It’s been another amazing adventure and another great year with her girlfriend. Better than that, Isobel’s already concocting a plan to make Maria’s birthday next year the best yet, because what could be better than a proposal and a honeymoon adventure?  
  
Nothing in the world, as far as Isobel’s concerned.


End file.
